Ying Biyu grinned, her brown hair waving in the phantom gales of the darkened Cheng Graveyard. Her Mons were clearing a wave of undead that had tried to come at her people from the west. Her 'ace' in particular had sent scores of the restless dead back to a permanent repose.

  Vilbert, a bat with two sickle-clawed forelegs flitted next to her, where she gave the adorable monster a few quick scritches behind its massive ears. "Vilbert, you did good," she cooed.

  "Scythebat!" it cried happily. Then its expression sadded. "Scythebat-bat..."

  She gave the Mon a pat. "I know. I saw your grandfather's corpse. I get it. Facing my father's remains again was not..." she stopped. Her people were around, slamming their Mons into the seemingly endless waves of animated corpses.

  Vilbert snuggled her, carefully angling its razor-sharp claws so as not to cause any serious harm. She returned the snuggle with few cares. This is, after all, why I wear my armor!

  The woman looked around, to get a sense for the state of the fight, and more importantly her people. The various misfits of Cheng had come together as they always did when the world decided things had been going too good. Mons were out, and all the disparate groups that made up her hodge-podge little city were cooperating flawlessly. A massive, muscular man in a hot pink dress had three avian Mons out, and was giving news updates to a psychic Mon that the woman suspected belonged to either Lowell in the next town over...or possibly the woman who ran a bakery, and was constructing a mechanical battlesuit in her basement.

  Ying sighed as Vilbert absently dismembered a few undead who'd charged her while she was picking out the details of the pitched fight. Everyone has to have a hobby, I suppose.

  A squad of Rangers appeared with a sonic boom, and a man in purple, dragon-motifed armor dropped from one of the Leveagles, swinging a nasty-looking halberd. Ying rediscovered her grin. Anyone that crazy is someone I want to know more about!

  The Rangers - and a much more conventional lady monster coach - landed, and immediately sent out their Mons. The monsters' onslaught cleaved a dent in the undead ranks, that was frankly far too small. The undead seemed to begin focusing on the armored man, who sprouted ghostly blue wings, slammed into clumps of zombies with that awesome spear. While he did that, some zombies charged the woman, until someone else raised a translucent white shield over her. A Light ability erupted on the attackers as if from out of nowhere, scattering them as ashes in the wind.

  The woman, of course, was not human. She was a real, honest-to-Olympus catwoman. Ying rubbed her eyes, just to be sure, though. Ying was very used to seeing extremely unique individuals - Cheng had been explicitly built to give society's outcasts a place, after all - but all those strange people had been human.

  Then the catwoman brandished a staff and unleashed a move...or was it a spell?...that looked a lot like one of the most powerful Water moves, Tidal Wave. Immediately a column was cleared, which the Rangers began securing. As they did, more Rangers were flying in from all sides, releasing their Mons as they did.

  The gouts of fire, lightning, and water were probably the most violent since the Mericarian-Allemand War some eighty years ago. The fighting had spilled into Kongming, of course, when Yamato forces had had some brilliant idea to try to create a Second Yamato Empire by invading near Lake Luoji...but had promptly failed when the Legendaries got involved. They had said something to the Guardian of Yamato of the time that made her immediately pull back her armies of coaches, and profusely apologize to Kongming. It had taken a couple of decades, but Kongming eventually forgave Yamato.

  Ying narrowed her eyes. This better not be related. My grandfather was there. Unlike most, I know what was said.

  Instead, she pointed to the dashing, armored figure. "Vilbert. He's going to wear himself out if he keeps that up. Give him a claw, would you?"

  "Scythebat!" came the cackling answer. Immediately, in a burst of motion as quick as shadow, and as cold as ash, the batlike Mon slammed into the enemies of the Dragon Knight, scattering undead before the man, who nodded gratefully, before turning his lance behind him on some flanking undead. The two were now fighting back-to-back, the blue flames of the man incinerating the undead, while the gloomy slashes of Vilbert simply shattered them.

  Ying pulled out two more capsules. Asking Vilbert to keep fighting alone would be a bad idea...and her main battle team had had it easy for far too long.

  "Everyone. See the man in armor? The cat-woman? Give them a hand, would you?"

  The third Dragon's Rage had begun to tire Ondun. The Lohengrim's edge came down on undead after undead, yet it always seemed like there were more. The odd scythe-clawed bat at his back was helping, of course, but even Ondun could recognize an untenable situation when he saw one.

  As Ondun faced off with the corpse of some massive lizard, an insectoid green shape slammed into it from the side, leaving it twitching in three pieces. It turned revealing a familiar insectoid profile, only with gleaming, slightly curved blades on each forearm, as opposed to the perfectly straight ones Ondun remembered from Guandao Forest. It also seemed slightly larger, and was a brighter green.

  "Yeziblade." It greeted, before helping a Gloomwolf that had circled around the odd bat and him protectively.

  Now that Ondun had some reinforcement, he could afford to start thinking strategically more than tactically. He reached up and released the Dragon Knight arts, for the Medicus discipline to wash over him instead. The Spelliths came out as he began to direct a delicate dance.

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  The Gloomwolf would bait teams of undead, for the Yeziblade and Scythebat to take turns taking them apart. When the undead would inflict a wound, healing magic would immediately patch the Mon up, and then give them a shield for good measure. Occasionally, Ondun would scorch a zombie with a beam of magic, just as he had done to the Faerrow that Alice commanded back on his first day.

  The safe zone he had cleared grew wider, and the odd coaches of Cheng poured into the gap he had made.

  Ondun didn't know names, but between the willing mix of humans, with mismatched styles of living, dressing, fighting, and talking, the adventurer had to suppress a tear. It feels just like home, when adventurers rally to fight for the cities they lodge in, he reminisced. He fell into the familliar rhythm of simultaneously fighting enemies, while calling out incoming foes, or supporting allies, or suggesting a new way to use a skill to the Mons who had been directed to help him.

  After a few minutes of this, the gap widened, and Rangers added their Mons - and also some firearms that reminded Ondun of Vroskan designs - to the mix. For a moment, Ondun let himself cheer as the undead seemed to rout before the combined forces of the local constabulary, the local folks, and Ondun, and Sylphie, who was talking to Aenora. He cheered again for the briefest second before doing a double-take as Aenora waved at him cheerfully, before conjuring a gust of wind that slammed into a knot of fleeing undead with the force of a hurricane.

  An odd motion near the ground made everyone stop, as the shards of dismembered Mons swelled with dark power and began to reassemble.

  Immediately everyone on the battlefield cursed, and fell back to the original barricades, as a few of the newly reconstructed zombies inflicted a few wounds and fatalities. Ondun saved who he could, and the coaches of Cheng did likewise. Even with that, though, a baggy-clothed man's blank eyes joined the ranks of the enemy, as his Mons fell back, crying their names at the corpse of their human friend in fear, grief, and confusion.

  Even as blasts of Mon moves and burst gunfire tore into the renewed undead assault, Ondun, Sylphie, Aenora, an odd woman in black armor, and a Ranger Captain held a brief council of war. Various Cheng coaches listened in, in between shouting orders at their Mons.

  Aenora didn't even bother with pleasantries. "Ondun, this area is saturated with Darkness. It may already be too late."

  Ondun tapped his chin. "In Xinling's forest, we were able to neutralize a Daemon with a powerful Light move from the Guardian. Could we do the same here?"

  The armored woman tapped her lip. "Oh HELL no. That will just turn the graveyard into a massive bomb. It'd solve the zombie problem at the cost of most of the city. I like this city, so, no, don't do that."

  Sylphie squatted and slammed a fist into the ground in frustration. Then she stopped and stared at her fist. "The area is saturated with Dark type power...or 'anima'...right?"

  Aenora and the odd armored woman nodded. So, the young trainer continued. "Hey Ondun, is there a way to siphon magic somehow? Like suck it all up into a smaller area or container?"

  Ondun shook his head...before stopping, and staring at Aenora. The Felinian cocked her head. "Ondun, why are you looking at me like that?"

  "I have a very bad idea, that I'm concerned you will hate me for actually doing."

  She sighed. "Ondun, now's not the time for your self-deprecation."

  "It's not. There's a way to do what Sylphie is saying. I could...summon an Astral."

  Aenora stepped back, while Sylphie stood and looked between the two cautiously. "Ondun's mentioned something like that before, and it sounded bad. Aenora, is he about to do something stupid?"

  Aenora nodded. "Yes, and no. In our world, the anima currents are slow and sluggish. Summoning an Astral there is literally a death sentence for the land...until and unless it's defeated. Here, though, the land is rich with power and the anima flows freely. A short summoning...yes, that has merit. Break your Astral, and you'll disperse the Darkness, where it will denature over time."

  The Cheng coaches, Ranger Captain, and the dark, armored woman were completely clueless. "What are you going to do?" the woman asked Ondun. He just frowned and closed his eyes.

  "Tell everyone - and I mean everyone, even you Sylphie - to fall back. Summoning an Astral brainwashes everyone in the immediate area. I...I've got protection from the effect. My anima is harder to corrupt, so the power of an Astral basically won't affect me." He turned to everyone. "This Astral is going to be made of Darkness, so any Mons with Light attacks will be needed to take it down, after the initial summoning is done. Sylphie, that means Strudel and Venus can help. Aenora...you've learned some Light magic, haven't you?"

  A Mon that looked a lot like one of Alice's teleporters gave a curtsy, as the scholaress nodded. "I've had a burst of inspiration."

  Ondun nodded. "Aenora, Sylphie, please keep each other safe. Everyone else..." he turned to the other coaches, "don't attack until Aenora does. She knows what to look for."

  They nodded, and immediately the coaches began giving orders for a fighting retreat, as Ondun restored his Dragon Knight armor and the Lohengrim. He walked forward, before stopping. "Aenora...it really is good to see you again. We have much to talk about. I'm sorry for going missing for so long."

  As he walked off, Aenora gave a stoic nod. "I've missed you. Arcanis isn't the same without your shenanigans. That's why you'll be coming back with me." She then grabbed Sylphie. "Get yourself and your Mons ready. An Astral is not a foe to be taken lightly."

  The undead kept a cautious distance about Ondun, but did not attack. They - or more likely, their summoner - knew the man was up to something.

  Ondun sighed, and held out a gauntleted hand. He was familiar with the general theory, thanks to two years of adventures and battles against Astrals. While his friends in the Knowing Circle all had mastery of the theory of summoning, Ondun had not only witnessed actual summoning, but fought every single one of the results.

  What's terrifying about Astral Summoning, Ondun mused, is the simplicity. Even - and especially - a fool can do it. There's just two ingredients.

  The adventurer extended his anima sense to the chaotic, dark air about him. There was well more than enough anima to fashion an Astral, of course.

  The other ingredient...is the desire to bring forth a figment of one's imagination. Faith is typically a focus, with myths or gods being popular with the Beast Folk. For me though?

  Ondun focused on a memory. It was dark, imposing, unpleasant, and a source of trauma and grief. Ondun, however, was not the same adventurer he'd been when he fought this man...or what he became when he summoned what had started a war.

  So it was that the memories fell into place easily, and Ondun's desire to fight something, to beat something, to overcome his own weakness proved the perfect source of will power. The dark contracted as zombies fell lifeless, their remains useless as a puppet whose strings were cut.

  The dark coalesced into a bead, then a cocoon, which burst with azure light as two wings spread, then two arms and legs tore the ebon chrysalis apart. The familiar, grinning face, with the massive angular nose, the hair tied into a pony tail was as Ondun had remembered...only scales were everywhere, and his eyes glowed with blue malevolence.

  "Well, well, well. A memory I may be, but a memory won't I stay. I think I'll tear you limb from limb!"

  With a savage cry, and surrounded by a field of the defiled dead, Ondun gathered the draconic fires about him, and flung himself at the phantom of the man who'd started the war for Ahn Mexol.